Therapy
by zycroft
Summary: A therapeutic massage turns sexual. Takes place post All Saint's Day; assumes they get out of prison. Written in first-person POV.


Connor and his stupid fuckin rope. I'm seriously beginnin to wonder about him. I can't say I can relate to anyone who wants to be tied down durin sex, but I can at least accept that some people do.

But who has a thing for ropes that isn't sexual?

You'd think after our adventures at the Prudential and baby Yakavetta, he'd stop tryin to find ways to emulate every rope scene in movie history. But no.

Well, maybe now he will.

I can say that his persuasive arguments about how well those plans have worked for us aren't going to sway me in the future.

After he had surgery for his torn rotator cuff, you'd think Connor was some battered old war vet the way he played that shit up at the bar. And me smackin him on that shoulder only made everyone pity him more, thanks to his over-dramatic reaction. Performance of the Year is more like it.

It isn't like they had to listen to him whine about how it hurt if he slept wrong or reach every little thing above waist height for the bastard.

And don't get me started on the massages! It isn't like we can dole out 65 bucks every time his muscles get too tense. But the doc insists he needs a massage when that happens, so I'm stuck doin it.

I swear he wakes up in the middle of the night and positions himself just a certain way before going back to sleep so that when he wakes up in the mornin, his damn shoulder is locked up. And then I have to give the smug bastard a massage.

I tried to catch him in the act, but it didn't work. Since I'm one of those rare guys that can't make it through the night without havin to take a piss, I thought it would be easy. I just didn't go back to sleep after pissin one night.

We've been livin a respectable life in a proper flat and we have the luxury of havin the couch and TV in a separate room from our beds. I had to keep gettin up from the couch to go check on him to catch him in the act, but I didn't mind. It isn't like we have cable or anythin.

By the time he woke up, I was maybe 4 hours into a marathon of spaghetti westerns and wasn't too pleased when he stumbled into view. I like westerns. And I hadn't checked on him since they started, so that must've been when he made his "I will fuck up my shoulder more so Murphy has to give me a massage" move.

I could tell he was in misery, though. He usually at least bothers to put on a pair of boxers before stumblin out for his first smoke of the day. But he was just standin there naked, looking miserable, not even goin for his smokes, and I took pity on him.

I got up and turned him away from me, planning to steer him back to the bedroom where he could lay down cause if I'm bein honest, he's nearly a quarter inch taller than me and it sucks givin him massages when we're standin. But as soon as I felt his shoulder, I gave in and just started my work there. He was bendin at the knees a little and it wasn't as bad as it could've been.

It seemed like forever passed before I got his shoulder to loosen up some. He didn't whine as much as he usually does when the knots are all bad and he can't move his arm without hurtin, but he didn't transform into someone else, either. He put up a token effort to whine and criticise me, so I wasn't too worried.

As his shoulder loosened under my hands, he kept sinkin closer to the ground and it was getting to be the easiest massage I'd ever given him. I figured since it was the easiest, I might as well keep doin it and hope that maybe the extra attention would keep his shoulder loose enough for a couple days so we wouldn't have to go through this again.

"Murph," he said, and his voice sounded strange. "Murph, ye can stop now."

I asked him if it hurt him for me to keep goin and he said no, so I was kinda confused and told him so.

I feel kinda bad for him, havin to admit to getting a boner from the massage, but it didn't exactly keep me from laughin at him. He tried to break away from me then and I felt real bad, so I tightened my grip on his shoulders and held him back.

He was tryin to turn his head to see me, and it had to be awkward from his angle, but I just started massagin him again. I don't know why I did it, I suppose cause thought maybe he hadn't gotten to do it since before the surgery, but I told him to go ahead and rub one out.

I might also have figured it'd make him more bearable to be around for a day or two.

He clearly wanted to do it and yet he wouldn't. Embarrassed, I suppose. We're close, we've done it around each other before, but we'd never been touchin at the time and I guess maybe I'd've felt weird if I were him.

I had to talk him into it and if you know Con, you know he isn't easy to talk into things.

It was kinda weird for me, too, rubbing his shoulders like that while one of 'em was moving and knowin what the hand I couldn't see was doin. He was leaning back into me and I had to shuffle my feet to keep us from topplin over ass-backwards.

I kissed his neck. It just…looked invitin. If I were rubbin one out and someone was holding me like that, I'd like my neck to be kissed there, so I did it.

He stopped breathin for a second, then his shoulder was movin faster and he moaned, so I did it again. I started lickin and bitin all over his shoulders then and he leaned back against me heavier than before.

I don't know why, but I thought about the mess he was gonna make and I wasn't sure how I'd clean it up. Cause there's no doubt in my mind I'd be stuck cleanin it up. So I manoeuvred him to the door to the kitchen. That way, we were still standin on the soft carpet, his mess would land on the tile, and I could use the doorframe to hold us up if I needed to. Pretty brilliant, if I say so myself.

Shuffle-walkin us to door had another upside I hadn't counted on. Namely, a very round ass was rubbing against my crotch the whole way and God forgive me, but I got hard, too. The friction was just so damn good and I didn't want it to end!

I shoulda just kept rubbing his shoulders. I shoulda just let him get off, have his mornin smoke, and cleaned up the mess. But I didn't.

What I did do was start rubbin the top part of his busy arm while makin little bite marks on his shoulder. From there, it just seemed natural to reach down and take over the work he'd been doin.

My mind works in weird ways when I'm excited. I was thinking somethin like "I should do this because he'll hurt his shoulder worse if he does it. And this way, my body is movin in a way that gets my dick rubbed and that's nice."

I didn't say it worked in a pretty way, just a weird way.

He fell completely back against me while I was strokin him and I shoulda thought the whole thing weird but it felt great. It felt good on my dick, of course, but it also felt good inside, to know I was helpin my brother with somethin he'd never ask for help with in a million lifetimes.

His knees were bent a lot and I had to lean at a weird angle and my face was buried in his shoulder so I kept kissin and lickin and bitin it and I'm not sure which of us liked it more.

He reached up and back with his left arm and was grabbin at me and when he snagged my shirt, it struck me how surreal it was that I was still wearing all my clothes. Somewhere in there, it occurred to me that this was the most erotic situation I'd ever been in, yet it didn't really occur to me how twisted it was that it was with my brother. And of course the whole "we're not gay" thing.

Fucking Connor is one of those bastards that has super-long, super-powerful orgasms. I swear he came for a good two minutes and he was buckin against me and rubbin his ass against my dick and I came, too. I'd just barely finished when he finally did, and then the bastard just stayed there, all slumped against me and I was clutchin at the doorframe to keep from fallin and still he didn't fuckin move.

When he finally tried to stand on his own, I had to wrap my arms around him in a bear hug to keep him from just sinkin to the ground. It was forever before I could get him to go clean up in the bathroom so I could clean the mess on the kitchen floor.

It was pretty uncomfortable doin that with my boxers stuck to my dick and tryin to permanently glue themselves to my pubes, but I did it. I had to wait until Connor got in the shower to clean myself up cause I didn't want him to know.

And wouldn't you know that bastard had the fuckin nerve to ask for another massage the next mornin?


End file.
